Peace or war, it's for you to decide

a poem by Rajaram Ramachandran, India - poetry writer, author, poet

When I plucked a rose flower,
The thorn pricked my little finger
And the blood came with pain,
Oh Jesus, how you wore a crown
Made of thorn, with no pain?

When I lifted a bench alone,
My legs couldn’t move or turn.
I had a catch at my back with pain.
Oh Jesus, how you took the cross
O’er your shoulders with ease?

When the lift, one day, failed
I went up with my loads in hand,
But every step took my breath out.
Oh Jesus, how did you manage the weight
Up on the mountain, when you went?

When I went out in the hot Sun,
With no water to drink, I fell down,
And my vision failed to lead me on.
Oh Jesus, how you walked all the way
Unmindful of the Sun, can you say?

When I struck a nail on the wall
The hammer hit my fingernail
And the nail turned blue with pain horrible.
Oh Jesus, how you took those blows terrible
When nailed on the cross, an act so cruel?

When one man kills another, it’s murder,
But when thousands get killed, it’s holy war
Which act is justified, it’s correct how far?
Oh Jesus, how can you remain silent,
When this world has become so violent?

May the Heaven now send hundreds of Jesus
For this earth be turned into a world of peace!
May better sense prevail among warmongers
To stop this killing-spree justified as holy wars!
Now peace or war, it’s for you to decide?

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